


Fog in the Mind

by Creative__Writing



Series: Me? Projecting onto characters? Yeah [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, M/M, Metaphors, Similes, author is sad, get projected onto virgil, guess whos projecting, its me, logan is 23, patton is 25, roman is 24, use of figurative language, use of pathetic fallacy, virgil is 21, virgil sanders is depressed, virgil sanders is sad, virgil sanders is sleep deprived
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 04:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17822015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creative__Writing/pseuds/Creative__Writing
Summary: "What was wrong with him?Virgil’s life was not bad, by any means. He had a stable job, even if it was not what he wanted to do in the long term, a wonderful boyfriend, and fantastic friends. It didn’t make sense for him to be feeling so… shitty, to put it mildly. Even the most basic of tasks were difficult for him to complete."





	Fog in the Mind

**Author's Note:**

> warning: depression, description of depression, depressed character

_ What was wrong with him?  _

 

Virgil’s life was not bad, by any means. He had a stable job, even if it was not what he wanted to do in the long term, a wonderful boyfriend, and fantastic friends. It didn’t make sense for him to be feeling so… shitty, to put it mildly. Even the most basic of tasks were difficult for him to complete. 

It didn’t make sense, either. Virgil was meant to be getting better, not taking five steps back from the progress he made. He ran on about five hours of sleep for the past forty eight, with no caffeine. Sleeping was pointless- why should he put the effort into sleeping? It wasn’t that he didn’t ‘deserve’ it, no, he just didn’t want to put the concentration and effort into actually working towards sleeping. 

Getting out of bed was dreadful, too. Running a hand through his hair, Virgil grimaced to find it greasy. He had showered the previous night, but failed to wash his hair- it was too taxing. Too time consuming. He supposed it was a win that a shower had even happened. Sadly, though, that meant another day of dry shampoo, if he wanted to do anything with the group he considered family. 

Virgil stared blankly at the wall. His phone had indicated there was at least ten minutes left before he absolutely get out of bed if he were to make it to Patton’s house on time. Said phone also had about five missed texts from the contact  _ Sploosh ♥.  _

 

_                                Sploosh ♥      - 12:22 _

_                                Virge _

_                                Virgeeee _

_                                Virgilllllll _

_                                Light of my life _

_                                See you soon <3 _

 

It was grossly adorable, and even though the purple haired emo wanted to answer, he also had no desire to engage in conversation- no more than he already committed to. He blinked a few times before sighing heavily. The pyjamas that adorned his lithe body were starting to feel oppressive and gross, which was what Virgil used as motivation to slump out of bed. The room was cold- of course it was, the previous day had been delightfully warm and didn’t need heat, but today had been much cooler, and he hadn’t left his spot on his bed to turn on the heating. 

It was hard to shuck off the oversized pyjama shirt that had been left by Roman- not physically taxing, no, Virgil wasn’t that unfit, it was difficult because he didn’t know what he would want to wear after. There was a fog in the back of his mind that whispered to just cancel, but he couldn’t; not again. His friends were already worried enough. 

In place of the shirt, he swiped the first clean-ish piece of clothing off the ground-- coincidentally another one of Roman’s, this time a dark maroon hoodie. Still more colour than Virgil’s own wardrobe, but dark enough. There was eyeshadow under his eyes, as usual, but it was messy. The twenty-one year old couldn’t find it in him to care enough to clean it up. The sweatpants that hung from his hips stayed where they were. If he had to, air freshener would work fine for the illusion of cleanliness. 

* * *

 

Virgil sighed once he stepped out of his small apartment. While he had the chance to live on his own, cars were a little too expensive (and by a little, I mean a lot) for his budget, and thus instead he held his trusty bus pass in his pocket. The idea of busing right now was enough to make him groan. Luckily, the headphones plugged in gave enough of a distraction to drift through the journey. 

The stop wasn’t too far from the purple haired male’s house, thank Heavens, but he had two minutes until it was expected to be there, which was less than ideal. It wasn’t exactly raining outside, not enough to warrant the use of an umbrella, but it also wasn’t just dark. No, it was a weird mix of humid and chilly, sort of like a mist. 

* * *

 

Virgil hardly paid attention to the commute he endured to Patton’s. Instead, he look out the window and allowed the mainstream emo music roll through his head. Metaphors and similes and alliteration and all the figurative language he learned when he was twelve swirled around. Society being a murder machine; a migraine being symbolic of illness and the feelings of defenselessness and vulnerability; happiness in the form of sunshine being borrowed; natural disasters and how they follow trends of addictions and mental illness. Despite the daunting, bleak… hopeless taste they left in his mouth, Virgil still found himself appreciating the distraction. 

Far too soon, though, he had to unplug. Join reality once more as he knocked on the door to the splithouse. Between the four (sometimes five) of them, Patton had the most accommodating house thanks to the better job he had obtained as well as his age. 

“Virgil!” The door opened and the excited voice to follow was enough to quirk his lips lightly. “Hey, kiddo! We’re just deciding on the movies we want to watch, come in!” 

“Thanks, Pat.” He toed off the worn Vans and followed the father figure friend into the living room. Logan and Roman were sat on opposite, mismatched couches in an intense staring match. Between them on the coffee table were the movies  _ Coco, Blue Planet, The Lion King, Back to the Future, The Hangover, Elf  _ (for some reason- it wasn’t Christmas time?),  _ Moana, The Princess Bride,  _ and a pile of others that weren’t visible.

“- and  _ I’m _ sayin that the plot of Moana isn’t feasible.” Logan sounded almost exasperated. As though he had repeated his point multiple times. Knowing how passionately the other felt about Moana, it wasn’t unlikely he had. 

“That- isn’t the point of Disney, Logan.” Patton interjected, once he reentered.

“What’s the point of- oh, hello Virgil.” He was greeted cordially by the second youngest of their group. 

Virgil had the chance to offer a small wave before he was crashed into by Roman. Strong arms wound around him. It was nice and allowed the shortest of the four present to relax. As though the regal like man was able to push away the fog and allow a few moments of clarity. Of course, as all good things do, it came to an end, though not for long as Virgil was pulled onto his boyfriend’s lap, cuddling. His cheeks flushed, which both his boyfriend and fatherly friend cooed over. Logan just smile amiably. 

When asked, Virgil told the others he had no opinion as to what they watched, as did Roman now subdued. Patton then came to the agreement to watch Coco, Blue Planet, Moana, then Back to the Future. 

Even with the happy room full of positivity, Virgil couldn’t shake the feeling in his chest, the one that felt like an anchor trying to weigh him down. Because mental health takes time. 

**Author's Note:**

> remember to leave kudos and comment! :)


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